


but all the choirs in my head sang

by darth_stitch



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Dracula Untold (2014), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Romance, Slash, Vampires, count buckula
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/pseuds/darth_stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were things that HYDRA never fully understood about their Soldier.  This would prove to be a fatal mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue:  For One Life is Born From the Other

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [you hit me like fire (shot me like a bullet)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2467193) by [amosanguis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis). 



> The Prologue was actually inspired by the first Bucky-as-Ingeras fic I read on AO3. However, upon re-reading this and a few more related snippets that were written a lot _earlier_ on my Tumblr, I realized they were all going to fit into a brand new universe. ** facepalm ** Sometimes, my Muses are sneaky bastards. With fangs.

_**Prologue** _

Ingeras, Prince of the House of Drăculești, takes his father’s throne at thirteen years of age. 

The principality that is known as the _Land Beyond the Snowy Mountains_ prospers under his rule, unusual for most lands where the ruler is a child who had not yet reached his majority.  But his guardian, Brother Lucien, was a wise advisor and unusual for his kind, his piety and faith were true and hard won. 

He had, after all, faced the Impaler himself and a coven of newly fledged vampires with nothing more than a blessed, wooden cross.  He would not forget the charge laid upon him by his lost, accursed prince, who had chosen damnation for love’s sake. 

Ingeras had once asked if God would still listen to his prayers for his father’s soul, if it was still possible to redeem what should be irrevocably lost.  The monk gently patted his young prince’s hand in comfort and offered the only truth that was unwritten in Scripture.

_There is always hope._

Ingeras grows up.  While he is less harsh than his father, the feared and legendary Impaler, he is fair and just in his dealings with his people and the neighboring kingdoms.  More than once, he clashes with the successor of Sultan Mehmet. 

He is not his father. 

There will be no tribute of silver.  No boys to be wrested from their mothers arms to be sent to the _janissary_ corps.   

When Ingeras takes to the field - and now, he is grown, and he knows his way with sword and shield, the sky above his native earth darkens.  Wolves raise their voices in savage song.  Shadows creep protectively close as he and his men march against the Turk. 

There are wings.

The shadows have _teeth._

These are the lands of the Dragon.  And the Dragon will always thirst for the blood of His enemies. 

Ingeras can only smile. 

He knows his father loves him. 

***

The man who now calls himself Gabriel Belmont Barnes is the one who paces worriedly outside the delivery room, while his daughter-in-law brings his first grandchild into this world.

He is wistful.  His son should be here. His son should be the one to hear the curses being heaped upon his head by his wife, the first one to hold the baby being born. 

Life, even for an immortal, is too full of uncertainties to take for granted.  Second chances are few and fleeting.

The man who had once been Vlad Dracula, the Impaler, had not expected that second chance at love when he had met Lisa.  Had not expected to be a father again, to hold in his arms a beautiful boy with his mother’s features and her fine, moonlight hair.   The child of a mortal woman and a vampire - there were those who would have cause to fear, for  _dhampirs_ were very, very rare.  

He had not cared.  This was his son, his child, his baby boy.  He would not fail him as he had once failed his beloved Mirena and Ingeras.  They would be safe.  They would be protected.  They would never know fear. 

He’d remembered holding Ingeras like this, breathing in that sweet baby smell. 

He found himself weeping.  Even a vampire can shed human tears. 

Ingeras had grown up to be a fine man, a good prince, died peacefully in his bed, surrounded by children and grandchildren.  He deserved a mortal life, a place in Heaven with God and His angels.  The damnation Vlad had wrought upon himself was worth it. 

So he’d thought to do the same with this new son, with Adrian, but it was not to be.  He was _dhampir_ \- the blood of the Dragon was so strong in him - and both he and Adrian were players in the Great Game so beloved of that damned wretch Caligula and God only knew the countless others who made similar, dread bargains with the powers of darkness.  

He’d brought his family to America, to Brooklyn, New York, with its teeming mass of humanity, its boundless energy, changed their names to the ordinary Irish _Barnes_ , tried to buy a measure of peace and contentment, away from darkness and blood and death. 

Adrian had even found his own beloved - Winifred, who had brought lightness and joy to his normally somber son.  Vlad - now Gabriel - was pleased.  He could have this, this quiet life with his family, the one that he had not had with Mirena and Ingeras.

But Adrian was not here.  He had left three months ago, investigating rumors of Caligula and his progeny, wanting to lead any enemies away from the ordinary life they had carved out here in Brooklyn.  His last, frantic message to his father said, _Protect my wife and child.  Beware HYDRA._

And every instinct in Gabriel _screamed_ to find his youngest son, but Winifred could not be left behind, not when she was so near to giving birth.  

Before the doctor comes out to congratulate him on his first grandchild, Gabriel already hears the newborn’s first, angry cries.  Eventually, he has the opportunity to hold the tiny bundle in his arms, ever so gently touching that fine cap of downy dark hair.  

The infant’s eyes open, blue-gray, the color of the winter sky.  Ingeras’ eyes.

_Ingeras._

The shock nearly takes him out at the knees, the knowledge singing in his heart, his blood, his very soul.

_Ingeras, my firstborn._

"Death cannot separate us, for one life is born from the other," Vlad Dracula, Gabriel Belmont Barnes, tells his grandson in wonder. 

"Papa?" Winifred asks him from her bed, clearly bemused. 

"His name will be _Iacov_ ,” he proclaims, unable to help the silly smile on his face.

"James, then," Winifred says, indulgently.  "Buchanan for my own family’s side, Papa, don’t you forget."

"James Buchanan Barnes," Gabriel tries it out.  It is oddly fitting.  He nods.  "Our little Prince Iacov, if we were still in the old country.  What do you think, eh, my boy?"

The little one in his arms coos softly. 

_“_ I think it’ll suit him just fine,” his mother laughs softly. 

_Iacov of the House of Drăculești._

_Welcome back, my Ingeras, my firstborn.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted at [The Blanket Fort](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/94661885211/hello-i-really-love-your-count-buckula-verse-is)

_Your name is James Buchanan Barnes._

_You’re my friend._

The first statement is truth.

The second is a lie.

Blood scent in the air tells him everything.  This is his _mate_ , his _life_ and he has come _this_ close to destroying that what was most precious to him.  So really, there was no other choice but to dive straight into the water where Steve

(yes, that was _his_ name, that belonged both to the tiny, frail boy in his half-remembered dreams and to the man in the red, white and blue who used a shield for a weapon)

fell, reach out desperately for a terrifyingly lifeless hand, a body with no more fight left in him, 

(god damn it, steve, why did you let me - why didn’t you fight back - oh please, no, no, no)

drag him to shore where he could take stock of every cut, every bruise, every wound dealt by the Soldier’s own hands.

He wants to keen, he wants to howl, he wants to rip apart whoever it is that made him raise his hands against his own, his own precious one, his beloved….

(steve, steve, baby, no, please, god, no….)

So the Soldier nuzzles at his beloved’s wounds, presses frantic kisses to each and every one he can reach, the scent and the taste sweet, achingly familiar.  Nothing his handlers could do would ever take that away, that basest instinct for one of his Blood to always know his mate, that _need_ for him. 

He can hear his mate’s heartbeat and it is slow, far too slow - not even the occasional flutter that it did before, the one that had terrified him so much so that he’d keep watch in the night, with fingers on Steve’s pulse and just listening him _breathe_.  This is the slowing beat that means his life’s ending and no no no, the Soldier cannot have this, cannot let him die in his arms like this, _no, baby, no, breathe for me, please breathe…._

So fangs tear at his own wrist, at the hand made of flesh, instead of metal and he brings the open wound to Steve’s mouth, makes him swallow the blood from his own veins, shuddering at the pleasure it brings.  It has been so long, so long since he’d felt remotely _whole_.

He has to stop, he has to stop before he brings about the Change inadvertently.  He only needs to anchor his mate to life long enough for the Serum to kick in, for help to come. 

He’ll nuzzle at Steve’s neck again, press quiet, fervent kisses into his hair, whisper his broken apologies into his ear before he leaves.

HYDRA has done this to him.  HYDRA will be made to pay.

HYDRA will be made to understand how Dragons take their vengeance. 

_What devil or witch was ever so great as Attila, as Vlad, whose blood flowed through his veins?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted as a comment fic at the [The Blanket Fort](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/91502394361/geekygallifreyan-sergeantjerkbarnes-he)

Because, this is the thing that HYDRA never really, fully understood. 

Steven Grant Rogers has _always_ been the mission. _The_ Mission, programmed so deep into the very cells of him that not even their best efforts at _reprogramming_ and _wiping_ could remove it.  They tried to warp it, by giving the order to _kill_ Steven Grant Rogers.

Except that in the Winter Soldier’s mind there was -

<mission parameters conflict> <protect and defend steven grant rogers>

<override kill steven grant rogers captain america>

<protect steven grant rogers>

<override attempt kill — ?>

<protect>

<defend>

<conflict program conflict conflict conflict>

<i’m with you till the end of the line>

<follow that punk kid from brooklyn who doesn’t have the sense to back away from a fight>

<love you, stevie.  can’t ever tell you, baby, but i do>

<love you>

<always>

So it _breaks_ when Steve calls him by name, it _shatters_ when Steve refuses to fight anymore, when he speaks the words

<password with you till the end of the line>

that the Winter Soldier

<Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes>

_recognizes_ from the shattered remnants of memory and a past life, a hand on a bony shoulder, offering a comforting touch, shared laughter, jokes, barbs and quips that really mean something else

<i love you>

and he’s not a weapon, not the _Asset_ , not some tool to be taken out of storage, cleaned up and pressed into use.

The Winter Soldier is a man.

The Winter Soldier is James Buchanan Barnes.

His mission is to protect and defend Steven Grant Rogers.

HYDRA perverted that mission.

HYDRA will be made to pay.

<New Mission:  Destroy HYDRA.  All heads must be cut off.  All traces of HYDRA to be eradicated.>

<Mission Accepted>

_\- tbc -  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted at [The Blanket Fort](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/94664462406/may-i-ask-for-a-snippet-of-grampy-or-papa-barnes)

At first, when Phil Coulson and his team find the first few destroyed HYDRA bases, they see what they expect to find - bodies downed with headshots and FitzSimmons would have a field day determining the trajectories - some of which they’ve only seen with Hawkeye in action.  There’s the debris and destruction to be expected of explosives. 

The Winter Soldier knows his weapons, of course.  And he’s very angry and hellbent on revenge. 

At least Coulson could tell Cap that it seemed that the Soldier has gained Bucky Barnes’ memories - after the initial shock of “yes, Captain Rogers, I’m alive too and I’m sorry for the deception” and the quiet “squee” he let out after Cap signed his trading cards. 

He's worried about Cap, to be honest.  The Super Soldier Serum should have let Steve Rogers recover fairly quickly.  But he doesn't look _well_ and his AMA release from the hospital certainly didn't help matters.  If he hadn't fainted right into Sam Wilson's arms, the moment he'd gotten back to what was now his new apartment at Avengers Tower, he would've gone off running after the Winter Soldier.

Sam gave Cap all the shit for "swooning away like a Victorian heroine," which helped defuse the situation a bit but yeah, Cap had to sit this one out for a while.  Phil's team was going to do all the legwork, bring him the intel, get his analysis.  It was a reasonable arrangement. 

But then, things got _strange_.

They would come to HYDRA bases and find bodies _drained_ of blood, throats viciously slashed, as if with  _teeth and claws,_ with some of the scientists - all of which were identified as having _participated_ in ensuring the “docility” of HYDRA’s “Asset” - impaled upon wooden stakes, stacked as much as twenty or thirty feet high.   They would still find bases destroyed utterly, debris extending from a radius of more than a hundred feet in every direction but this time, the destruction wouldn’t come from any sort of man-made explosive.  At least, nothing that they could identify - even with the knowledge of explosives that wouldn’t even be available on the black market…. _yet._

Skye, who had a pretty good imagination, would describe it like a “giant fist” coming down from the sky, flattening everything to the ground. 

Team FitzSimmons would finally manage to unscramble security footage recovered from the last HYDRA base that the Winter Soldier had destroyed in more familiar, mundane ways.  A man had seemed to _appear_ in front of the Soldier, someone who had more than a passing resemblance to James Buchanan Barnes, enough for a reasonable assumption to identify him as possibly _family._

He’d called Barnes by a rather strange name.

_Iacov._

Fitz would helpfully identify this as the Romanian equivalent of _James._

The stranger had also said something else in the same language, something that they had later translated as:

_Come, grandson, let us show these fools what punishment awaits those who would dare to cage Dragons._

It really, really didn’t help when Steve, upon being shown the footage, smiled with relief and said, “I’m glad Grampy’s alive after all.” 

_\- tbc -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For obvious reasons, this is not compliant with the current season of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [The Blanket Fort](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/post/100228018196/for-one-life-is-born-from-the-other-ingeras)


End file.
